


cruel professor, studying romances

by fourthfatality



Category: Shiki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: COMEDY (??), M/M, Med Student AU, OR TRAGEDY (??), U DECIDE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:01:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourthfatality/pseuds/fourthfatality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[9:29:57 AM] ounheagh: fav thing abt this fic is seishins preferred method of getting revenge is anonymously pounding on the doors/walls of the person who wronged him like a fucked up banshee</p>
            </blockquote>





	cruel professor, studying romances

**Author's Note:**

> i took a class on fluid dynamics and heat transfer once and i'm still sore about that

              This is his lowest score yet—relatively speaking anyways. Ozaki’s tests are always hard; the average is a fifty, which puts Seishin at least a standard deviation and a half below them, which means he’s almost definitely failing the class. And strictly speaking, it’s not even _required_ curriculum.

              “Hey, well, at least you’re doing well in your actual med school classes.” Tatsumi says. He has an arm around Seishin. “I mean it’s not like you can get academic probation for failing an elective.”

              “Actually…”

              Tatsumi winces. “Tsubara. Give the guy another round.”

              The bartender nods, and slides them a glass. “Test blues again?” Although his friend frequents the bar, he rarely gets hammered on Wednesday afternoons—after getting into grad school, he’s been predisposed to making more responsible choices than he did in his undergrad years.

              “Fuck you and your MFA,” Seishin mumbles into the shot glass.

              Tsubara laughs in response. He turns to Tatsumi. “What’s this class about anyways?”

              “It’s the one I’m TA-ing for. The guy whose lab I’m in teaches it—it’s about fluidics and blood? Something related to the lab, probably.” Tatsumi shrugs. “Can I get something light?”

              “Shouldn’t you know what the class you’re TA-ing for is about?”

              He frowns. “Probably? Nobody shows up to my office hours and I always grade off Ozaki’s key…” Seishin looks like he’s about to strangle him.

              “Why is?” Tsubara jerks a thumb at Seishin. “He taking it anyways?”

              Tatsumi smiles. “I told him Ozaki was hot. And, I guess Rate My Professor agreed.”

              “Is he?”

              “If you’re into grumpy older guys who—“ Tatsumi stops himself. He’s sure the alcohol is gotten to him. “That’s it! If you can get him to like you, I bet he wouldn’t mind if I changed your grade to a pass.”

              “’M not sure he’d like a guy with barbells in his…” Seishin mumbles, now face-down on the bar.

              Tatsumi grins. “Oh my god. No. If you can get Dr. Toshio Ozaki, The Ice King, in bed with you, I’ll give you a hundred percent in the class. I don’t care if I get fired.” He’s half-joking.

              “You know he’s done it before, right?” Tsubara says, entirely serious.

              Seishin’s not sure how far gone he is, because he’s actually contemplating trying. (To be entirely honest, he isn’t sure how likely he is to pass the class any other way.)

**i.**

       Seishin likes to start with a classic. He lives in the Land Of Perpetual Rain™, so he usually goes for the umbrella trick. He pretends to forget his, asks the target for theirs, and usually ends up getting in the vehicle with them. It isn’t terribly difficult to plan in advance. He looks for a rainy day (a Friday. A week from today to be precise,) and makes sure he’s fairly close to Ozaki’s lab. Close enough to trail him as he’s leaving the building. He has to make sure the complimentary umbrella container is empty (which often requires physical intervention.) And has to check to make sure he doesn’t use the attached parking garage—it’s the intimacy of the umbrella in the rain that he thinks starts the relationship.

       He spends more time working out the subtle intricacies of Dr. Ozaki’s schedule than he does studying for his class. (In all fairness, his schedule is perfectly easy to figure out—he goes to lab, lectures, does clinical work and then goes home. Or some variation thereof.) After a few days of careful observation, he finds that his professor leaves the hospital/Health Sciences Building compound at around six thirty, and crosses the street to take a bus.

       It’s a short walk, but Seishin thinks he can make it work.

       He waits by the door, looking dejectedly at the empty umbrella container. He’s somewhere between a frown and a thoughtful chin-rub, when he sees his target.

       “Do you need an umbrella?”

       He sees Dr. Ozaki standing behind him, umbrella in hand.

       “Yeah… I forgot mine.” He gives him a smile. Seishin briefly contemplates whether or not it would be worth trying to get his professor to walk back to his apartment with him. It’s close enough, but he’s not entirely sure whether the other man can find a bus nearby. He mentally curses himself for not having checked whether or not there was a bus stop in the immediate vicinity.

       “You can borrow mine,” Ozaki says, handing him the umbrella.

       Before Seishin can thank him, he’s out the door, sprinting towards the bus stop.

       He stares, dumbfounded.

       To make the best of a bad situation, Seishin decides to go for the rebound. Or more specifically, the thank you. He thinks the best way to go about it is to buy his professor a dessert. Something fancy and exotic. Not too exotic—he wants Dr. Ozaki to be able to eat it, and not too fancy, he wants to send a clear message. Something halfway between interest and gratitude.

       He spends at least an hour talking with his roommate about this.

       “I’m positive. Baklava is coming back in.” She looks up from her computer, tilting the screen in his direction. “See? Lots of expensive gift baskets have it in them.”

       “Ritsu, have you ever actually had any?”

       She frowns. “Yes, why?”

       “Just asking. Personally, I think it’s kind of disgusting.”

       She shrugs. “You said the guy is out of your league, right?”

       “Thanks.”

       “I didn’t mean it like that!” She gives him a smile. “I meant… he might have… more… refined… tastes?”

       “Not helping.”

       “I know. Sorry. I mean, if you want, I can help you pick something out?”

       Seishin agrees. They settle on a small box—not too big, he doesn’t want the gift to seem inappropriate, but large enough to contain several flavors, to indicate Seishin’s supposed wealth. (“Ritsu, my parents are the only Zen Buddhist Priests in the City of Seattle.”)

       He contemplates wrapping it up, but ultimately decides against it.

       When he hands the box to Ozaki before class on Monday with his umbrella, all he gets is a “thanks, but I’m allergic to pistachios,” in response.

       Tatsumi gets a call from Seishin that he doesn’t entirely expect. It happens on a Thursday night, after a long day at the lab.

       “Hey, do you know what Ozaki likes?” Seishin pauses and audibly sighs into the phone. “I mean I tried the umbrella thing and then I tried sweets but it turns out he’s allergic to pistachios and…”

       “What?”

       “I mean, you know, what Ozaki’s into? Interests?”

       “Yeah. I know what you said the first time around. Just trying to figure out why you’re into my boss—“ He stops himself. “Oh. Wait. You’re seriously trying to seduce him?”

       “You said that—“

       “I know what I said. I was kinda buzzed at the time, and I didn’t think you’d _actually_ do it?”

       “How else am I supposed to pass his class?”

       “Study? Go to his office hours? Anything else?” Tatsumi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Listen. I was joking. I’ve worked for this guy for like four years and we’ve never found anything he’s interested in, other than work. That’s kind of why I called him The Ice King?”

       “So, what am I supposed to do?”

       “No idea… actually… wait. Do you still have your maid costume from last Halloween?” He grins. If there’s one thing he’s learned as a graduate student, it’d be that professors are into some extremely questionable things.

       “Why?”

       “I have an idea.”

       “Why did I call you?” Seishin mumbles, to no one in particular. He tugs at the hem of his skirt, urging it just a little lower. In retrospect, the entire scheme sounds like a cause for academic probation—he’s thankful that there isn’t a federal offense at imitating a university employee, or conversely pretending to be a hospital janitor. He thinks the cops would snicker at his testimony.

       “ _Don’t_.” Tatsumi says, moving Seishin’s hand away from his outfit. “You look fine.”

       It takes an inordinately long time to reach Ozaki’s office, Seishin thinks. He tries to take small steps so his high heels aren’t too loud against the industrial floor. It doesn’t work in his favor. He’s aware that everyone in the lab is staring at him. (Except Ozaki.)

       “Hey, Toshio, can I come in?”

       There’s a muffled “sure,” followed by the sound of the door unlocking.

       “Hey! So, I read through your comments on my paper, and I was wondering if we could sit down and talk about them?”

       Dr. Ozaki turns around to face Tatsumi. He frowns. “Who’s…?” With a vague hand-motion in Seishin’s direction.

       “Oh! Right!” He nudges Seishin, prompting him to speak.

       Seishin is flushed red, and entirely sure a crew of fishermen is going to find Tatsumi’s body floating around in the Puget Sound. He can see the headlines. News at 11: The body of a student from the University of Washington was found today a week after his disappearance. Police are currently making inquiries. They have no leads so far.

       “He’s kind of shy,” Tatsumi lies.

       “M-Maid service,” Seishin stammers.

       “He does such a good job at my apartment that I thought I’d bring him in. You know. For your office, I mean. It’s been a while since you’ve let the janitor in, and…”

       Toshio nods. “Fine.” He turns to Seishin. “You can start by dusting off the bookshelves. And cleaning the whiteboard up.”

       “So, like I was saying, I…” He notices that his boss is staring at Seishin. He makes a hand motion, and mouths “bend over” to his friend, hoping that he’ll take the queue.

       “Are you okay?” his boss asks.

       “Uh, yeah? Just… a little nervous about the conference and everything…”

       He gets a knowing nod in response. “Unless we get awful reviewers, I think you have a pretty good shot.”

       Tatsumi glances in Seishin’s direction.

       Dr. Ozaki clears his throat. “I’ve also been thinking…”

       “Hm?”

       “Maybe you should present this research at BMES. I was planning on going anyways, and…”

       Tatsumi nods. “Oh yeah. Sounds great.”

       He listens to his boss talk about his paper. It’s the most flattering review he’s ever gotten; and he’s grateful for that. The conversation shifts to the fluid dynamics class. Tatsumi nervously looks at Seishin. Their eyes don’t meet, but he can feel the wrath all the same.

       Dr. Ozaki waves him off.

Tatsumi thinks he’s going to avoid Seishin for a few days.

“Hey, um…” Dr. Ozaki struggles for a name.

“Muroi—Seishin. Seishin Muroi.” He supplies, trying to give Ozaki a convincing smile.

“Right. Seishin. Uh…”

“Yes?” And Seishin begins to think that maybe, this is all worth it. The ridiculous outfit, the inability to feel his feet, the fact that every object in Ozaki’s office is coated in seven or more layers of dust.

“Do you think you could vacuum… or sweep?”

              “Hey, I’m sorry about the maid thing, but I have another idea. It’s really good. Call me back when you get this message.”

              “Playback next message.”

              “Hey Seishin, this is Tatsumi again. I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days and I just wanted to know if you’re okay. Really sorry about the maid thing. Um, look I found out that Toshio has an ex-wife so maybe we should ask her…”

              “Playback next message.”

              “Seishin if you get this call me back. There’s been angry, loud knocking at my door and all the windows every night for the past week and quite frankly I feel like I’m going to die. Also my roommate has a final tomorrow, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that.”

**v.**

              Seishin realizes that the best course of action would probably be to talk to an academic counselor. But acknowledging the fact is an entirely different matter. It would probably involve having to admit to the maid outfit and… well, everything else. His counselor is a short, severe woman and he doesn’t think he could lie about studying—or at least trying to study to her face. She reminds him of his mom. (And there’s probably a special place in hell reserved for people who lie to priests.)

**vi.**

              It’s far easier to spend hours in front of the mirror.

              “Hey Seishin, are you done yet?”

              “No Ritsu, I am not.”

              “You’ve been in there for like two hours there is _no way_ you have that many thongs. Or that much makeup to put on.” He hears a gentle knock on the door.

              “I have three, and I’m _trying_ to decide whether carmine or lavender goes better with my eyes. This would be so much easier if we knew Dr. Ozaki’s favorite color.” Seishin sighs and holds the carmine fabric against his skin.

              “It’s maroon!” She says, exasperated.

              “Wait, how do you know that?”

              “Oh! Well, actually, he guest lectured for one of our classes and… Seishin, I don’t have time for this. I _really_ need to use the restroom.” Ritsuko jiggles the handle.

              “Just give me a second! I have to redo my makeup…”

              Ritsu screams.

**vii.**

              Predictably, nobody’s at Dr. Ozaki’s office hours. He’s at a table in the common area on the fourth floor of Foege, clicking through his emails. Seishin pretends to pull his pants up, drawing attention to his low-slung jeans and slightly too-short t-shirt. He smiles and waves to his professor before walking over.

              Ozaki nods at him. “Do you have any questions?”

              “Yes, actually.” Seshin takes a pencil and a notebook out of his bag, flipping to a page with notes (that he hopes are from biotransport.) “I’ve been having a little _trouble_ lately,” he says, sensually chewing on the eraser of the pencil.

              Ozaki glances at the notebook. “Is there anywhere you’d like to start?”

              Seishin grins. “Maybe…” He feigns thought, and drops his pencil to interrupt. “Oh! Let me get that.” He bends over, exposing his new, maroon undergarments, hoping that his professor will notice. It’s not a particularly conventional technique. Perhaps even a little below his standard, but he’s desperate.

              “Okay, well, let me know when you find it,” Ozaki says monotonously.

              “Tsu………….ba……………….ra………….” Seishin is facedown on the bar. “How do you seduce guys?” He mumbles. “It’s just not working. I think I’ve lost it.”

              The bartender pushes his glasses up. “I’m dating a girl right now, actually.” He sighs. “Actually, I asked her to model for a painting I was doing.” He grins. “Take that. Your BS isn’t gonna help you here.”

              “Hey, cheer up! Maybe Ozaki is one of those new-age impressionist fans,” Tatsumi chimes in, patting Seishin on the back. “I mean he _is_ a pretty weird guy.”

              Tsubara frowns. “There’s actually a lot to composition. You can’t just…” He waves his hands around. “You know?”

              “Tatsumi, I’ll pay you thirty bucks to knock Ozaki out, steal his laptop and change my grade.”

              Tatsumi snorts. “Fat chance. Toshio’s practically chained to that computer.”

              “I don’t mean to pry, but I overheard you talking about Dr. Toshio Ozaki,” she says. She’s pretty, with freshly-manicured nails and a beautiful cream dress.

              “Yeah.” Tatsumi says. “Are you a student of his too, or something?”

              She laughs. “Heavens, no.” She fishes around her purse for a cigarette. “I’m Kyouko. His ex.”

              “Hey, Seishin. You should ask her how she did it,” Tsubara says, grinning.

              Seishin groans.

              “Did what?”

              “Toshio.” Tatsumi looks at her. “Seishin here, he’s trying to get to third base.”

              “Good luck.” Kyouko narrows her eyes. “He’s a good-looking kid, but Toshio’s…” She purses her lips. “Aromantic. And asexual.”

              Seishin makes a noise halfway between a sigh and a moan

              “Wait, so how did you do it?”

              “Pretended to have a rare, congenital heart condition.” She looks at Seishin. “Don’t try that though, he’s been burned before.”

“C’mon Tatsumi, just once.” Seishin lightly taps Tatsumi’s chest with his fist. “Just once with your brass knuckles.”

              Tatsumi sighs. “You’re drunk. And Toshio probably isn’t even on rotation tonight.”

              “Tatsumi, I need this.”

              “You know what, I’ll just give you a good enough score on the last exam to pass the class. Just don’t do… whatever you’re doing right now.”

              “Wait. Really?”

**xi.**

              Toshio has a copy of The Paper on his fridge. He makes every single member of his lab read it—it’s a revolutionary piece of work in his field, and he thinks that if he can get results at least half as good, he’ll be proud of his work. So, it only follows that when the first author of the paper is giving a talk on campus, Toshio makes room in his schedule to attend. He’s corresponded with the man twice, and he thinks they’re getting dinner together after—(“I’ve seen your work. I can talk to you about it if I’m not otherwise occupied.”)  

              He sits at front, intermittently thinking about taking notes, and then rapidly wondering whether or not it’s too tacky, and then wondering whether or not any of these specifics would be relevant to his project in any particular way.

              He’s nervous. His foot is doing the trademark nervous/involuntary twitch, and he’s running his hands through his hair far too often. He wants to make a good impression.

              Toshio waits around, like some of the other professors (and more motivated grad students) do. He notices a former student of his, and waves.

              “Hi, Dr. Ozaki.”

              “It’s Muroi, right?”

              He nods. “Yeah.”

              “I didn’t know you were interested in inducing pluripotence in certain cardiomyocytes to control heart damage,” Toshio says.

              “Hm? Oh. The talk? Not really.”

              “Wait. Why are you here?” Toshio asks, incredulously.

              “Oh that’s—“

              “Seishin, it’s _you_! I wasn’t even sure you’d come. I didn’t know how to contact you. I haven’t seen you in so long. Thank you _so much_ for coming.” Toshio looks at the medical student, dumbfounded.

              “Yeah.” Muroi rubs his elbow. “About that…”

              “No, it’s alright. I’ve left my wife. And we aren’t going to have a kid.” Paper Man looks somewhat sheepish, blushing a little. Toshio can only look on in morbid fascination. “I don’t know if you saw, but… a couple of years ago… I did get that paper in Nature.”

              Toshio’s sure every connection in his brain has fizzled out. He had no idea that The Paper, his favorite paper was written for the express purpose of romancing a graduate student.

              “Well… um. I mean. Congrats.”

              “I thought we could go get dinner together to celebrate. That’s quite alright, isn’t it?”

“Actually, what I’ve been trying to say was… the thing with you, it was kind of a fling? I’m not looking to date anyone right now. Congrats on your paper though. I hope it works out for you.”

              Toshio ends up having dinner with his idol. They barely talk—the other man is too busy crying into a rather expensive plate of kale and quinoa.

              “Hey Toshio! Can you look over this paper for me? It’s the conference notes.”

              Toshio is busy gnawing on the cap of his pen. “Wait. Muroi is your friend, right?”

              Tatsumi narrows his eyes. “Yeah. But I don’t see what that has to do with the paper…?”

              “Nothing.” He uncrosses, and then re-crosses his legs. “I’m just trying to figure something out.”

              “Does it have anything to do with the text you sent me yesterday?”

              “Which one?”

              “The really long first one. ‘ _He’s behind the paper. How did he do it? I don’t get him at all…’_ something about wanting to figure it out, something about dinner being really unpleasant, and something about being deeply betrayed…” He pauses. “That one!”

              “Yes. Did you know he was… um… with…. Romantically involved with…”

              Tatsumi drags his hands down his face. “Oh my god. No… no. Don’t tell me he slept with the guy whose methods I’ve been trying to replicate this entire time.”

              “I think he inspired it…?”

              “God.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “But no. I don’t keep tabs on my best friend’s sex life.”

              Toshio taps his pen against his desk. “He sounded more attached than that…” He mumbles.

              “Look. Seishin hasn’t dated anyone since that freaky recyclo-vegan guy who threw his family’s thanksgiving turkey out of the window in the middle of their dinner and like dove out after it and insisted that his dad bury it because it needed a proper funeral or some shit.”

              “Hey, Toshio! It’s been like a week, and the paper is due in a little more than a week, do you think you could look at it?”

_Dear Toshio,_

_Just a reminder that my paper for the conference we talked about is due in four days, and I still haven’t received any feedback on it. It would be really helpful for me if you could look it over._

_Thanks,_

_Tatsumi Kirishiki_

_PhD Candidate: Ozaki Lab_

              He finds Toshio in his office, looking over Seishin’s student records, and a copy of his ID card.

              “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important…”

              Toshio grunts in acknowledgement.

              “The paper is due in a couple of days, and… I noticed you still hadn’t edited it?”

              “Tatsumi, there has to be something more to him than his student records indicate. Is he looking for a graduate-level lab position, you think?”

              “But you said that the position I have was going to be the only…” His mouth opens in a little o.

              “Hi Muroi, or… is it okay if I call you Seishin. Is that fine? Seishin. You took one of my classes and I hope you’re doing okay. (This is Dr. Ozaki, but you can call me Toshio btw) I just wanted to know if you had some time to talk about things.” Seishin reads out loud. “What part of this isn’t totally weird?”

              “None of it.” Tatsumi motions to Tsubara to give him another shot. “You’re going to go out with my goddamn forty-something boss and you’re going to like it.”

              “I mean, why? He’s aromantic, first off, and second of all, I’m not interested in dating at all.”

              “Is this because of the—“ Tsubara asks.

              Seishin sighs. “Yes.”

              “Well, you owe me because you passed fluidics, and my boss isn’t going to look at my paper, due tomorrow, unless you go on this date with him.”

              “I mean, as long as it’s only one date, I guess? But, what’s in it for him?”

              “He thinks you’re some kind of good-luck charm or something, I guess.”

              Seishin finds that he enjoys Toshio’s company more than he thought he did. He’s witty and wry. (And, most importantly, he eats dairy products.)

              “How’d it go?” Tatsumi casually asks.

              “Okay, I guess. I mean, he’s taking me to this sushi place tomorrow.” Seishin shrugs. “Did the paper thing turn out alright?”

              “I don’t think it really matters anymore,” Tatsumi says.

**bonus**

              Some months later, Seishin brings Toshio to his parents’ home. His father is impressed with Toshio’s degrees and qualifications. Toshio’s mildly fascinated by his dad’s heart condition, and his mom is generally supportive as she always is.

              Halfway through their dinner, they notice that Toshio hasn’t touched his mom’s yakizakana.

              “You wouldn’t happen to be…” Seishin’s dad hesitates “…vegan, would you?”

              “Vegetarian,” Toshio replies.


End file.
